WRFH/Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM - The Poetry Fix: Comus, Part Four

Episode Date: May 5, 2026

Join Erika Kyba to encounter the rising action of Milton's Comus, as the wicked spirit Comus hears the approach of a noble lady and plots to seduce her by passing himself off as a harmless shepherd. The lady enters, not finding Comus at first, but wary of the sounds of revelry that she heard from this part of the forest. Erika analyzes the spiritual drama that is afoot under the trappings of an attempted seduction story.

Welcome to the Poetry Fix on Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM. I'm your host, Erica Kaiba, bringing you your weekly fix of poetry from across time. Today we're continuing our journey through Milton's Comus. We left off as Comas began to lead his band of nighttime spirits in a wild frenzy of dancing, as an act of worship to Kataito, goddess of night, wildness, and revelry. In today's excerpt, Comus suddenly breaks off, hearing the virgin footsteps of a nobara lady, who wanders lost in the forest. Comus quickly dismisses his spirits to avoid frightening or offending the lady. This is not out of the goodness of his heart, but rather because he wants

to seduce her under the guise of a harmless villager. It's the classic story of the wolf in sheep's clothing, the predator that passes himself off as innocent. This is what begins to push the rising action of Milton's narrative. Everything depends on whether or not the lady will be wise enough to resist Comus. And there's more at stake here than an earthy seduction story. Comus has chosen to surround himself with a herd of sheep, making himself into a false shepherd. This deliberately evokes Christ's famous words that he knows his sheep and his sheep know him. False shepherds, so the gospel tells us, will not succeed in getting the sheep to follow them, though they will try. This lady must have the discernment to see Comus as a false shepherd at the peril of her

soul. With all that said, let's dive in. Comus by John Milton. Break off, break off. I feel the different pace of some chased footing near about this ground. Run to your shrouds. Within these breaks and trees, our number may affright some virgin shore, for so I can distinguish by mine art benighted in these woods. Now to my charms and to my wily trains. I shall, long be well-stocked with as fair a herd as grazed about my mother's circe. Thus I hurl my dazzling spells into the spongy air, of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, and give it false presentiments, lest the place and my quaint habits breed astonishment, and put the damsel to suspicious flight, which must not be, for that's against my course. I under fair pretense of friendly ends,

and well-placed words of glosing courtesy, baited with reasons not implausible, wind me into the easy-hearted man, and hug him into snares. When once her eye hath met the virtue of this magic dust, I shall appear some harmless villager, whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. But here she comes.

I fairly step aside, and hearken, if I may, her business here. This way the noise was, if my near be true, my best guide now, Me thought it was the sound of riot and ill-managed merriment, such as the jocan flute or gamesome pipe stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds. When for their teeming flocks and grange's full, in wanton dance they praised the bounteous pan and thank the gods amiss. I should be loath to meet the rudeness and swilled insolence of such late wassler's,

Yet oh, where else shall I inform my unacquainted feet, in the blind mazes of this tangled wood? My brothers, when they saw me wearied out with this long way, resolving here to lodge under the spreading favor of these pines, stepped as they said to the next thicket side to bring me berries, or such cooling fruit as the kind hospitable woods provide. They left me then, when the gray-hooded even, like a sad votarist in Palmer's weed,

rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus Wayne. But where they are and why they came not back is now the labor of my thoughts. You've been listening to The Poetry Fix with Erica Kaiba. If you enjoyed this episode, consider following The Poetry Fix on Spotify, YouTube, or Apple Podcasts. And if you have any poems you want to see in a future episode, email your suggestions to the Poetree Fix at gmail.com. Join me next week and we'll be continuing our journey through Milton's Comas.